


Deprivation

by Steena



Series: The pound 'verse [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Barricade's bastard Master, Butt Plugs, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Fingering, Non-Consensual Hand Jobs, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Non-consensual use of sex toys, Past Rape/Non-con, Sensory Deprivation, Sexual Slavery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-13 23:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 7,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17497766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steena/pseuds/Steena
Summary: The story of how a seemingly unbreakable Decepticon phase sixer finds an opponent who might match his own ruthlessness, and has a penchant for manipulation. How far will Overlord bend to his new owner’s wishes to be allowed to get his senses back?Barricade's first Master had a project between Breaking the Saleen and acquiring Dreadbot. Overlord is a completely different type of challenge, but that just adds to the fun.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for, and posted with permission of, lord-overlips on Tumblr.

Overlord can’t stop a smirk from stretching his full lips as he watches another Autobot enter the room in front of his cell, and he rolls his optics. _What on Cybertron possesses them to think this mech can do something every single one of his previous owners has failed with?_ There just isn’t anything special about the mech.

“He’s really feisty, hasn’t shown any sign of being worn down. Practically immune to pain.” One of the guards says.

Overlords grin widens. Oh, he may be weak, and collared, and not posing a real threat to anyone at the moment. But it still irks the Autobots when they can’t make him wail and beg. _Like the other weakling Cons. He has heard them crying and whining. But not him_.

“Excellent. I enjoy those who are stubborn.” The mech murmurs, looking Overlord up and down with rather bright optics. “It’s even more glorious when they finally break.”

_As if that is going to intimidate him_. Overlord snorts, sticking his chin out in defiance. The mech can believe that the Decepticon will break all he wants. Overlord knows better. _He isn’t weak._

“Come on, follow me. Lets go home and get to know each other.” The Autobot says.

“Why should I listen to you, glitch?” Overlord says without moving.

A slow smirk spreads across the Autobot’s faceplates. “Oh, I am going to enjoy this. Because were going either way, no matter if you come willingly or not. Listening to me will make it easier for _you_.”

“Everyone says that, and still nobody has actually proven to me that it is less appealing to disobey. You have nothing to punish me with that I fear enough to comply.”

The Autobot’s grin widens even more, something calculating and hungry in his optics. Some would find it disconcerting, but it isn’t enough to give Overlord pause.

“We’ll see about that, or at least _I_ will. You though, you won’t see much at all.”

The mech's servo shoots out, quicker than Overlord would peg the bulky mech for being. The slap across the side of his helm hardly even stings, but his laugh gets stuck in his vocalizer as his optical feed suddenly shuts off.


	2. Chapter 2

The ride to his new trainer’s apartment was very boring without his optical feed, and Overlord is annoyed. Whatever transport they took was completely silent, no other mechs around, and the Autobot didn’t speak to him for the entire ride. _And he’s trussed up to a point of not being able to move, save when his pedes were released to enable him to walk to the mechs building._

The Autobot has chained him down to kneel, and Overlord is pretty certain that the mech is hoping that he’s going to get tired and give in to the rather uncomfortable position. _Ridiculous._

“So, _Overlord…_ ” The mech purrs. “I have read so much about you. We're going to have so much fun. Unless you want to make it easier on yourself and just give in?”

Overlord snorts a derisive laugh. “If you’ve read so much about me, you’d know that I won’t comply. But I’m flattered that you’re one of my fans.”

The mech rumbles a laugh. “Fan is a strong word. I just like to do my research before acquiring a new project. So tell me, are you _bored_ yet?”

“It would be hard to be anything but bored with this inane conversation.”

A digit suddenly slides over his bottom lip, and Overlord flinches in surprise, not prepared for the soft touch.

“Such lovely, soft derma. I’ve never seen anything like it. I will enjoy when they’re wrapped around my spike.”

“Like that is ever going to happen. I’ll bite it off as soon as it is in my intake.” _Like the last time someone tried his mouth._

“No, you wont. You will beg me to _allow_ you to suck it. In due time. But right now, I think you need some time to process this thoroughly.”

Whatever Overlord was going to say is left unsaid, because his audial feed suddenly cuts off and the silence distracts him.


	3. Chapter 3

He keeps shifting around, because it’s the only thing he can do to occupy himself. Overlord can’t move much, but at least the restraints pull at his frame, giving him some sort of input to process in the black silence he’s left in. The phase sixer has no idea how long he has been like this, his chronometer is deactivated. All he knows is that he has been refueled manually three times.

Overlord has kept himself occupied with running through every scenario of possible escape, but he has not come up with a plan. _Just the fact that it is futile to even think about it._ So now, he’s down to twitching around just to keep himself from losing it.

Then there’s a brush of touch against his helm, and his hearing returns. He drags a deep vent in relief he would never admit feeling.

“Welcome back. I want to offer you an opportunity.” The Autobot says with amusement in both his field and his voice.

Something brushes against his lips, and Overlord flinches before he can control his reaction.

“Open up.”

It nudges harder, tries to push inside, and the Decepticon feels the sticky slickness of the smooth thing, the smell of transfluid. He pulls back.

“Come on. If you suck it, I’ll give you your optical feed back.” The Autobot coaxes.

Overlord slowly opens his intake, allowing the disgusting component entrance. Then he bites down. _No fragging way is he going to suck spike like a willing little whore, just because the mech said so._ His denta crunches through the metal, but there’s no satisfaction from pained screaming, from the taste of energon.

_It’s a false spike_.

“How predictable.” The Bot says, no signs of irritation in his voice or field. In fact he seems amused.

That does give Overlord pause. _Shouldn’t the mech do like they all do, and try to beat him into submission?_

“I was right. This is going to be very amusing. And I have all the time in the world. Well, ‘til next time…”

Overlord’s audial feed is cut off again, and he screams in anger, but he’s certain that it’s cut off, because he still feels when his vocalizer is disconnected. Then he suddenly lose his sensory input too, and he’s left in the dark silence again, completely cut off from the world.

_Well frag_.


	4. Chapter 4

He did _not_ see this coming. The bad pun fails to amuse him, but he has got to hand it to the mech; it’s a stroke of genius. Overlord has never been this bored in his entire functioning. He can’t even tell how long he has been locked in the solitary of his own mind, but he is completely ready to get out. _There’s no torture that could ever match this_.

So when his audial feed is suddenly returned to him, the Decepticon is rather relieved that his vocalizer is offline, catching a pathetic whimper of relief in the long queue of profanities that has built up.

“So how are we feeling today? More cooperative?”

As much as he hates that voice, all soft and purring with pleased amusement, it’s as welcome as the caress of a lover. He still shakes his helm, or at least he gives his frame the command to do so, but he can’t tell if it obeys, because he still can’t feel his body.

A humming chuckle, laced with dark amusement that makes him want to cringe. _The mech still seems pleased with his defiance._

Then he actually gasps when his sensory input returns, telling him that he has been repositioned; now he’s sitting, back against the wall. _There’s no way to know what else has been done to his frame._

His thoughts are interrupted by digits sliding into the vents on his chest plates, and as much as he hates the mech touching him, the input is so very welcome. His frame twitch with the pleasure.

“Hmh. You _seem_ quite cooperative. How about that blowjob? I’ll leave your audials on…”

_Oh, it would be such a sweet distraction to be able to hear._

But he isn’t a whore, isn’t going to sell his frame for mere distraction, so he shakes his helm.

The mech chuckles.

“Suit yourself.”

His frame goes numb again, and then his audial feed is cut off.


	5. Chapter 5

Sensory input is returned, and he shudders in unadulterated pleasure when deft digits slide up one of his cannons. He doesn’t have the most sensitive plating, but after being deprived for so long, he feels like he has been sensitized, the slow caress setting his plating on fire.

His hearing is returned while he is taking stock of his situation. He has been moved yet again; now he’s kneeling with his servos between his knees and even though he’s loath to find out, he still forces himself to check for signs of having been… _touched_ in other ways.

_He seems untouched._

It’s not that he hasn’t been raped in a multitude of ways during his captivity, but the thought of someone doing that while he was stuck in limbo makes the energon burn at the back of his throat. _Oh, he knows that the mech has fueled and done his maintenance while he was unaware, but he isn’t keen on thinking about that._

“Feeling more cooperative?” The mech asks.

Overlord nods weakly, hating that he’s even thinking about doing _anything_ for the mech at all. _But he really doesn’t want to be left like that again._

“Good Con!” The mech praises him condescendingly.

The mech fiddles with something between Overlord’s knees, and the phase sixer shudders from the sweetness of physical contact, of sensory input to occupy his easily bored mind and remind him that he still is a fully functioning mech, and not just a mind, floating alone through the vastness of space.

“Your servos are free. Today, I want a hand job. If you do it well, I’ll leave your audials on.”

_Ugh. Of course the Autobot would want something like that. But if his audials are left functioning, he wont be isolated anymore. It really is a small prize to pay, isn’t it?_

His vocalizer is still offline, so he just nods his agreement.

“Very good, Con! Hold your servos up.”

He does, flat palms up, as if he’s waiting to receive a gift, and he’s utterly disgusted with himself.

“I think we’ll start with something easy. You just hold it, and I’ll do the rest.”

Overlord nods again, and a hot, heavy length is placed in his servos. He wraps his servos around it. _It’s a small price to pay._ The mech starts to rut into his hands, and it’s humiliating how _good_ it feels to hear the Autobot’s deep voice as he grunts in pleasure, to feel the slick slide of the spike in his servos.

When the mech overloads and hot transfluid trickles between his digits, seeps through the seams in the plating of his servos, Overlord moans silently with shameful pleasure.


	6. Chapter 6

The Autobot stayed true to his word and left Overlord with his audials functioning.

_It hasn’t done him any good at all._

The mech left and hasn’t returned, leaving the Decepticon in the complete silence of a fully soundproofed dwelling. He can’t see, and his sensory input wasn’t part of the deal, so all he can do is listen to nothing. _And his vocalizer is still disconnected, so he can’t even chatter to himself._

Overlord wishes he could slow clap. It’s rather impressive, really. On one occasion, the mech bragged about having done his homework, mentioning how he knew that Overlord didn’t do well without attention. The Decepticon mentally scoffed at it at the time, thinking that the mech was wrong, that he wasn’t needy like that. No, he pictured himself a self sufficient loner of a mech, a dangerous weapon, intelligent and powerful enough to handle anything on his own.

And here he is, turning out to be the all-time attention whore of the Decepticons. The Autobot knew even before he did. _Bra-fragging-vo._

He can’t say how long he has been alone for, because he can’t see when it shifts from day to night, has nothing to help him keep track of time. All he knows is that he was fueled well before the mech left, and maintenance was done and he hasn’t gotten any warning pop ups in his HUD so far.

It’s still horribly monotonous to remain there, in the dark silence, not knowing what position his frame is in, so he can’t even try to move, lest he might fall over or something equally ridiculous. _Which he wouldn’t even know, except for the crash he’d hear. With his luck, he’d probably fall on a false spike and get it stuck somewhere ridiculous._

A door slides open, and he perks up mentally, training his audials on the pedefalls coming closer.

“Hello, _Overlord._ ” That rich, silky voice caresses his audials and he shudders.

He can’t respond, even though he wants to. Hopefully, he is nodding a response. _He doesn’t want to seem contrary and have his hearing privilege taken away, just because he can’t tell if he’s actually responding or not._

“I apologize for leaving you like this.” The mech says, sounding completely unapologetic as he removes the blocker from the Decepticon’s sensory input.

No matter how much Overlord wants to hate how condescending the mech is, thinking he couldn’t handle to be left alone for a little while, he is still shivering in pleasure by just hearing that voice. _The only voice he has heard for Primus knows how long._

“Now, I have a new offer.”


	7. Chapter 7

_Sucking the Autobot’s spike._

That’s the offer he is gracefully given. The thought leaves a bitter taste in Overlord’s intake. _He isn’t a pleasurebot, dammit!_

But the other option is unsavory in another way. Sure, having his audial feed hasn’t done him much good when the Autobot left for a while. But if he complies, he might get something else. Like his optical feed. There’s always something to look at, he has come to realize. He remembers getting bored when he was a free mech. But he was ignorant back then. _What he wouldn’t give to just stare at specks of dust, floating in the air right now…_

He tries to picture the mech who is surely standing before him. Overlord can hear the sounds of his systems; fans spinning, the clicking of heating plating, and the low rush of air through his vents. The Decepticon tries to remember what the mech looks like, since he can’t see him, but he didn’t pay attention, so it’s rather vague. _He just knows that he found him rather unattractive._

It’s disgusting that he can’t even remember what the mech looks like, and still he has taken the Autobot’s spike in his servos, has allowed the mech to fuck his hands, some of the dry transfluid still lingering in his joints as a crusty coating of the finer components there.

_Why is he even considering to take that spike, the one he hasn’t even seen, in his intake?_ He almost gags just thinking about that thick length sliding between his lips, weighing his glossa down, the taste of bitter transfluid.

But he enjoys having his audials functional, even when the mech is gone and everything is silent. _At least he gets to hear when there is a sound to hear._ With them offline, he’s just an unknowing package, not better than an empty frame, less than a drone.

_He might get something else if he complies. What if the Bot is thinking about rewarding him with his optical feed, or his sensory input if he complies, and he’d miss out on it just because he’s being whiny about what has to be done? He always was the one Megatron turned to when shitty stuff had to be done, he can deal with anything, right?_

Yet there’s a vast difference between doing the dirty work of a Warlord, work he took great pleasure in, and selling his frame for the ability to receive attention.

_He isn’t desperate for attention, he’s just making a bargain for not being forced into tedious boredom. What’s the point for an intelligent mech to hang around, doing absolutely nothing? And having his senses back would let him know if a threat approaches, if he needs to defend himself. Yeah._


	8. Chapter 8

He nods, sour energon rising to the back of his intake.

_He has never sucked spike before, neither voluntarily, nor has he been forced to do it. At least not to completion. Just the time when he got his revenge by biting, and he doesn’t count that as sucking spike per se._

Yet here he is. Without a single protest, he's kneeling on the floor in front of an Autobot he thinks is ugly, slowly sliding his glossa over his lips to show that he is indeed willing to do it. _It is definitely a new low in his functioning._

Something smooth and wet touches his lips, rubs back and forth to smear the sticky fluid, and Overlord wants to reel back, to pull away from the spike, but he can’t allow himself to do that. _Or he will be deaf, blind and completely numb again for the foreseeable future._

Not worth it.

A servo on the back of his helm holds him in place as the spike is pushed deeper, hitting the back of his intake, teasing the sensitive tubing.

“Mhm, your lips look absolutely delectable around my spike. I have wanted this since the first time I saw you.” The mech groans.

_He does not want to know that._

But he wants to be denied the use of his senses even less, so he wraps his lips around that spike, and allows the Autobot to frag him in the intake, unable to tell if it’s his pride that’s forming the ball in his throat, or if it’s just his frantic swallowing to curb his gag reflex when the spike repeatedly threatens to push into the sensitive tubing.

The mech thrusts quicken, and when transfluid fills his intake, Overlord tries to swallow, but the thick shaft pushes some of the fluid out to run down his chin. The Decepticon feels the disgustingly slick slide of the spike against his lips, the bitter taste of the fluid, and he has never felt lower in his entire functioning. 


	9. Chapter 9

Of course he had to get mouthy and disobedient. _He isn’t a weakling, he doesn’t give up that easily._ Right now though, Overlord is regretting it. No matter how disgusted with himself he was when he had sucked that spike, at least he was allowed to hear. _The mech kept his word._ Unlike Overlord himself, who said that he would behave, but clearly, he didn’t.

He has been defiant, which always feels rather good, he didn’t just bend to the mech’s will. _That has to account for something, right? He has to believe that it wasn’t in vain._

That’s what he tries to comfort himself with thinking, but it really is an exercise in futility. _It kind of loses some of the effectiveness when the mech ignores him, rather than giving him the satisfaction of forcing a reaction out of the Autobot._ Withstanding a punishment is something that usually annoys the slavers, but this one just snickers, as if he’s pleased with the acts of defiance, and then Overlord is shut inside himself again.

Sucking spike is still not appealing, but there was a reason why he did it in the first place, he has to admit that. It really was a small price to pay to be back in the real world, if only by hearing what was going on around him. Yes, Overlord did forget how bad it was to be completely deprived, and why he gave in to the Bot’s wishes in the first place. Underestimated how horrible this is.

And the state that he’s in is hardly more dignified than sucking spike, than willingly kneeling for his owner and allowing the mech to frag his mouth. He may be deprived of all his senses, doesn’t feel his own frame, but the phase sixer still has his HUD, and his HUD is telling him that he is indeed regularly fueled and maintained. _And how dignified is it to have someone do that to him?_ _How do they even go about it…?_

No, he shouldn’t be thinking about that. Thoughts like that will make him weak, might convince him to play along with the Autobot, just to avoid someone doing that in a way that might be embarrassing. He doesn’t know how they do it, and if he doesn’t know, he can’t be embarrassed about it.

_It’s all part of the helm games, all part of the plan to make him break._

The most pathetic thing is that he couldn’t even tell the mech _if_ he decided to give in, because he still can’t talk either.


	10. Chapter 10

His optics are onlined again for the first time since his senses were taken from him, and Overlord almost sobs in relief. He takes the Autobot in, and as much as he still isn’t attracted to the mech, the Autobot sure is a sight for sore optics. Or is the Decepticon’s processor playing tricks on him? _Maybe he was just too busy with being defiant to notice?_

The dampener on his audials is removed as well, and he gasps in relief, even something as small as the low sounds of a frame a welcome distraction after his unknown amount of time spent without input.

He doesn’t though.

Has he really sunk that low? Is that what he’s becoming?

“It really isn’t that fancy. You’ve actually done it before. Sort of.” The Autobot drawls, but there’s something smug in his field that sets Overlord on edge.

The Decepticon stares at his trainer, still unable to voice a question. _It’s ridiculous that he isn’t allowed the use of his vocalizer back. It would make communication so much easier. And he wouldn’t abuse it, if that would mean losing it again._ But alas, he’s still mute. The Autobot hasn’t even considered giving him his voice back.

“It’s just another hand job. You do it according to my instructions, and I’ll let you have your optical feed afterwards.”

That really is a very small price, considering what the mech _could_ ask of him. _What the mech could do without asking._

He nods and holds his servos up, eager to get it over with, and the Autobot grins at Overlord, the phase sixer kneeling in front of him.

“Good choice.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Here’s what I want you to do; I want you to grab it with one of your servos, aim it at that pretty intake of yours, and stroke it slowly. I want to overload all over your face, and especially over your lips.”

But not too disgusting to put up with, if it gets him his optical feed back.

He slides his servo along the shaft, smearing the pre-transfluid to slick up the length. The Autobot groans, watching with bright optics.

“That’s good. Slowly, I want to savor this.” The bastard tells him.

He obeys and slows down, lips hovering just inches from the head of the spike, servo getting increasingly smeared with disgusting fluid, and he has never felt so cheap in his entire functioning as he does then, staring at the spike he’s aiming at his own face.

And yet, there’s a tiny part of his processor that is squirming in absolute delight at the attention he’s getting, that’s purring contentedly. The Decepticon is repulsed with himself for it, for being such an attention whore, for allowing himself to be turned into a pleasurebot for the measly price of seeing. _And for someone to see him, to pay attention._

“You’re really good at this, this is so arousing. You really _do_ have potential.” The Autobot praises him condescendingly.

He can’t help himself, he sucks that praise up as if it was high grade and he was an even more starved mech than he is in reality. _And how he hates himself for that. Fragging attention whore. It’s disgusting._

“Faster.” The mech grunts, his fans having slowly reached a crescendo.

Overlord increases the pace, twisting his servo around the slick spike, fluid sticking in the joints of his digits. _He needs to make the mech satisfied, so he can keep his optical feed._

The first spurt of transfluid lands across his mouth, warm and bitter and disgusting, and he flinches, but he doesn’t slow the pace of stroking that spike. _He has to keep the mech satisfied._ The second spurt goes higher, hitting his nose, a few drops managing to get inside, and he does his best to not make a disgusted grimace, but he can’t quite stifle the urge.

He holds his vents and keeps stroking, feeling himself lose more dignity with every warm rope of sticky fluid streaking his faceplates until the mech is finally done.

The Phase sixer lets go of the depressurizing component and wipes his face with the back of his servo, eager to get the telltale signs of his shame away from his face.

“No! I did not tell you that you could clean up.”

_Is the mech fucking kidding?!_

“You will be deprived until you learn to not presume anything, to wait for instructions.”

And with that, he’s plunged back into silence and darkness, his frame numb to everything.


	12. Chapter 12

“I think you deserve a new chance.”

Overlord is roused from recharge when he suddenly hears the Autobot talking to him. The Decepticon sobs without a sound in relief. _It has been so long since he was allowed to know anything but the inside of his own processor._ At least it feels like it has been a long time. He can’t tell with his chronometer disabled.

His vocalizer is reconnected.

“Yes, thank you..”

“Shut up. I did not tell you to speak. Or do you want to be deprived _again?_ ” The mech’s voice is hard and sharp.

Overlord shuts his intake so hard, his denta hurt.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I’m going to allow your sensory feed to go through.”

Sensation rushes back, and it’s dizzying with all the input. Overlord really tries to be quiet, but a low moan escapes him as he shudders in pleasure. The Autobot doesn’t say anything about it, and Overlord is relieved that the privilege isn’t immediately revoked.

A servo strokes one of the barrels on his helm, and he gasps, hyperaware of everything teasing his sensors; the displacement of air when the mech moves caresses his entire frame, the soft grip and slow stroke of a servo around that barrel, obscenely mimicking something sexual.

It doesn’t matter that it is a fully visible, not at all erogenous component that’s being stimulated. His valve is getting wet, and his charge is rising. _As if he was an overly sensitive newbuild._

“That’s it, you slut. Just give in.” The Autobot croons.

_Oh, how he wishes that his charge wasn’t skyrocketing, that his valve wasn’t dripping, lubricant running down his thighs to puddle on the floor beneath him._

But he can’t control his frame like that, and with a wail of defeat, mortification, and unwanted pleasure, he overloads from just having his helm-gun fingered.

The Autobot chuckles when Overlord starts to sob in humiliation.

“Good Con. You’ve earned hearing, voice and sensors back. Just don’t cry too loudly. I hate being disturbed.”

With that, the Autobot leaves him in the corner. Overlord curls up, sobbing quietly. His valve is still pulsing after his release, his legs feel sticky, and his folds are disgustingly slick and Overlord has never felt so defiled in his entire functioning.


	13. Chapter 13

“On your servos and knees.”

Overlord truly hates these new training sessions, but he still obeys.

_The times he doesn’t, he’s thrown back into deprivation, and the relief he feels when he gets a new chance is more humiliating than accepting a few touches._

A digit is dragged down his back-strut, down his aft. It slides slowly over his port, the opening clenching reflexively, and Overlord’s tank lurches queasily, before the offending digit continues it’s trail to reach his valve. His spark sinks when it slides through the dry and unaroused folds.

_This is the first time the Autobot has taken the lessons this far._

“Your field is very enticing when you dislike what I do.” The mech notes.

“Yes, Master.” Overlord answers flatly, the words leaving a bitter taste on his glossa.

A digit slides into his long unused valve, the dry mesh sticking to it in an uncomfortable way, but at least he isn’t aroused by the fingering. _It ’s cold comfort._

The mech pulls his digit out and focuses on Overlord’s node instead.

“You’re going to enjoy this.”

_He hates it._ But Overlord’s frame is responding to clever digits, so he grinds his denta in self derision.

“Just accept it, slut. Make it easier on yourself.”

Overlord’s charge starts to rise and he can feel the lubricant dripping out of his valve, and he hates himself for it.

“You’re just like every other Decepticon, nothing but a whore, a _fuck toy._ Just give in.”

His hips jerk and he accidentally grinds against those hated digits that are teasing his folds and node.

“That’s right, take pleasure in your Master’s touch.” The Autobot murmurs.

_It’s too fragging much, he can’t stand the humiliation._

Overlord keels forward to get away.

“No!” He grinds out between clenched denta. “I’m not a whore, or a toy.”

The mech raises an optical ridge and grins amusedly.

“Suit yourself. You will be _begging_ for it when I let you come out of the darkness the next time.”

As the dampeners are slapped in place and panicked regret is overwhelming him, Overlord hates that the mech is right.

_He will thankfully take whatever he gets, like the attention whore he is._


	14. Chapter 14

The shame is overwhelming.

_And still, he does nothing to protest._

Cheek to the floor, aft in the air, a wanton moan leaves his vocalizer, and he hates himself for it. The plug is slowly pushed deeper into his port, the stretch burning. _It’s so welcome after such a long time of nothingness, such a relief to feel anything again._

It pops into place in a glorious way when it’s finally seated, and he relishes the fullness, even as his faceplates burn with humiliation.

“There. That’s a good look on you.” The Autobot murmurs.

A digit fiddles with his anterior node, and Overlord’s hips buck.

“Yes, this will do.”

The digit moves away, and Overlord stifles a disappointed whine. _He’s not going to be a needy whore, desperate for attention. The fullness in his port will suffice, it’s sensory input._

He kneels like that, bent over in the corner, while his Master cleans the living room. Just hearing the mech move around is enough to make the Decepticon’s valve go slick. _He isn’t deprived anymore, and every input is like the most sensual of caresses to him._

Then the doorbell chimes, a sound that makes a shudder travel down Overlord’s back-struts, even though he is silently horrified that someone else is going to see him like this. He listens to the exchange of pleasantries, valve starting to drip lubricant. _They notice._

“I thought that you were exaggerating, but he really is getting primed as we stand here talking.”

“He really is a needy slut. Still hasn’t quite given up his defiance.”

They come to stand around him, and Overlord is close to sobbing, mortified beyond what he thought was possible. A servo strokes his aft, grabs the plug to wiggle it, and the moan that refuses to be contained is laced with self derision. _Any input is better than being locked inside himself, but that doesn’t make it less humiliating._

Digits slide through the soaked slit of his valve, and he quivers under the touch. It feels good. _He hates it._

Somebot kneels behind him, a servo curling around his hip, And Overlord can see where this is going. The Phase sixer’s tank roils with disgust, and he wars with himself. _Is it worth it? Can he take another round of isolation? What’s the point, if he’ll be back here again soon. Or maybe he’ll be deprived for years?_

“Are you going to let us have that tight valve of yours?” His Master asks, stroking Overlord’s hip.

_It feels so good, it would be so easy to give in._ But if he lets them fuck him, he really is nothing more than a pleasurebot.

“No!” The Decepticon grinds out, starting to get up from his submissive position.

Then everything goes black and silent again.


	15. Chapter 15

“Since you’re proving to be rather dense, I think we need to start with something a little easier.” His Master smirks, and the glint in the mech’s optics tell Overlord that he isn’t going to like this either.

There’s more Autobots in the room, and the Phase sixer’s spark plummets. _Definitely won’t like this._

“Since you didn’t allow us to frag you the last time I made you a rather generous offer, we need to take a few steps back in your training. The task will be easier, but the reward will be smaller. You will not be allowed to have your hearing even if you succeed.”

_Ugh. But at least visual and sensory input is better than nothing._

He waits silently for the mech to make a suggestion, knowing that his Master doesn’t like him to speak unnecessarily.

“You’re going to put on a show, and you better make it good.”

Two toys are held out to him, and Overlord stares at them, half-processed energon burning at the back of his intake. _They look like rolled up Decepticon insignias._ It feels like he’s on autopilot when he stretches his servo out to take them.

“I like the thought of you fucking yourself over with the Decepticon cause. Now, on your back and spread your legs. We want to see you stuff yourself. Valve and port.”

The toys seem to weigh tons in his servo, and he probably make a disgusted grimace, because the Autobot smirk widens into a nasty grin. Overlord still stretches out, _like he was told,_ bending his knees and spreading his legs as wide as he can, to give the gathered Bots a good view of his degradation.

His Master sinks into a chair, and bright optics lock on where Overlord is sliding the first toy into his valve. It goes in easily, he’s already wet and ready, primed by hearing the Autobot talk, by seeing again. _Disgusting._

The Decepticon starts to pump the toy, the sensory input glorious in a way he never thought possible. He bucks his hips to meet his servo, mewling with pleasure, and for long moments, he loses himself in the sensation.

“Good. That one is lubed up now, so you can stick that up your aft. Take he other one in your valve.”

The reminder of his audience is most unwelcome, and he’s reminded of what, exactly, he’s doing. _He’s whoring himself out again._ But he wants those senses back, so he does as his Master says. There’s conflicting input when he pushes the toy into his port, because while he enjoys all sensory input he can get, the burning stretch is still decidedly uncomfortable, and he’s mortified by what he’s allowing himself to become. Overlord has never been into being humiliated. When the toy is fully inside, he pushes the other one into his valve.

“Very good, Con. Now fuck yourself with both the toys.”

As vile as it feels to obey, he does. _And he knows that he’s going to overload, and they will mock him for it._


	16. Chapter 16

Digits slide through the slit of his valve, but Overlord stays completely still, allowing the touch.

_Not just allowing it. Eagerly anticipating it. Like the filthy slut he is._

He has lost track of how many times he has been thrown back into his mental hole, has been kept in oblivion to emerge ready to give up a little more of himself. And his worst shame is the way he’s starting to press into the touch of his Master, how good it feels whenever the mech acknowledges him in any way.

Digits being pushed into his valve isn’t something new, but he knows the mech is going to want something more, to raise the stakes. _He always does._ The Decepticon moans as his Master hits a node deep in his slick valve.

“You’re doing so well, Overlord! Look at you, finally on the track to reach your full potential.”

_He pushes back._

“Are you going to keep being good? Do as I say?”

“Yes, Master.” He hisses, voice broken by aroused static.

“Then you’ll ask me to frag you. Fill you up with my spike, and my transfluid.”

_Gross. No mech was ever allowed to overload inside him before._

“Yes, Master, please frag me.” Overlord whines, his charged valve not sharing his mind’s revulsion.

The mech kneels behind the Phase sixer and wastes no time. The thick head of his spike nudges Overlord’s valve-lips, and then it slides inside.

He wishes that he could stop himself from rocking back to get his Master’s spike hilted as quickly as possible, but he can’t. Instead, Overlord whimpers wantonly when the spike is hilted, nudging his ceiling node in a delicious way.

“Yes, Master. So good.”

_So much input, all his nodes stimulated at once, and it’s so wonderful. Why did he ever resist this?_

Rough servos hold his hips, leaving dents and scratches as the mech sets a punishing pace, and Overlord cries out in unadulterated pleasure every time the mech thrusts.

“You’re such a wanton pleasurebot.” The Autobot grunts.

“Yes, Master! _Harder!_ ”

There’s a nasty chuckle, but the mech quickens his pace. The Decepticon’s charge soars and mere seconds has him teetering on the edge.

Then he feels the hot, wet spill inside him as his Master overloads, and it tips him over too. Transfluid is pushed out around the spike inside him, dribbling down his thighs, and Overlord convulses in pleasure.

When the Decepticon is left in his corner for the night, still covered in fluids from their coupling as a bitter reminder of what he did, functioning sensory feeds is nothing more than cold comfort.


	17. Chapter 17

He’s such a good pet now. It happens on occasions, few and far between, that he is disgusted with how obedient and well behaved he has become, but he pushes those thoughts away. _Resistance only leads to him being deprived, and it’s pointless._

“Overlord!”

“Yes, Master?”

“Come here. I need a little service.”

He crawls on all fours to his Master, the Autobot sprawled lazily in a chair.

“I never get tired of watching your lips wrapped around my spike”

Overlord leans forward, about to lap at the mech’s still closed panel, but the Autobot stops him with a servo on his forehelm.

“Eager! That’s good, but I want to add a finishing touch first.” The Autobot, smirks, pulling something from subspace.

The Decepticon watches as the his Master removes the lid to reveal a small wax-stick. _It’s purple._ The Bot drags it against Overlord’s lips, and the Phase sixer can feel the layer it leaves behind, a thin film of Decepticon purple.

“There, perfect. Now, take it all. Slowly.” The mech says, pressurizing his spike.

Overlord mouths at the head of the spike at first, just the way he knows that his Master enjoys. Then he slowly lets his lips slide down the length, lips trailing ridges and grooves. He doesn’t stop until his nasal ridge is pressed against the mech’s ventral plating, and the head of the spike is teasing the back of his intake. The Phase sixer has learned to control his gag reflex. _Deep throating feels much better than deprivation._

The mech’s servo wraps around the back of his helm, pushes him down even harder, and Overlord moans. The mech starts to rut into the Decepticon’s intake, and Overlord’s charge starts to rise.

“Your lips look even better like this. It’s as if I’m mouth-fragging the entire Decepticon faction. Like you all deserve.”

_Oh, if he only could ask if he’s allowed to finger himself._ But he can’t ask, not with a spike down his throat, and he doesn’t dare to take such a selfish initiative. _He learned the lesson the last time he got presumptuous like that._

So the only thing he can do is allowing the mech to use his intake, and hope that he will be allowed to put on a show afterwards, or perhaps the Autobot wants to finish in one of his other holes, which would at least give him an opportunity to beg for release.

But bitter transfluid fills his intake, sticking to his glossa, dribbling out around the spike when he fails to swallow quickly enough. _Hopefully, his Master will be satisfied with the overload, so he isn’t punished for failing again._


	18. Chapter 18

“You have behaved well lately, and I think that you have deserved a reward.” His Master says.

“That’s very kind and generous of you, Master. Thank you, Master.”

“It is, isn’t it? Anyway, give me your arm.”

The Autobot plugs into his medical port, and Overlord is surprised when he’s given access to his spike back. He doesn’t have much time to think about it though, because one of his Master’s friend walks in, dragging a slave behind him. The smaller mech isn’t struggling, it looks more like he’s too weak to be able to move very fast.

“I know you don’t like to be bored, and I think allowing you to do something you haven’t done in a very long time would be a good reward. Now, I’ll record this session, because it will pay for the energon you need. Everything good comes at a price, but you already know that.”

The words are just background noise to the Phase sixer, he has heard it all before. _And his entire frame is buzzing pleasantly in anticipation of sensory input he hasn’t experienced for a very long time._

“Go ahead, take him any way you want. In that corner, please. The lighting is best over there.” His Master says, motioning to the appointed corner.

The rest of the gathered Autobots pick up cameras and position themselves to get all the angles when the other Decepticon is pushed into the corner. The smaller mech starts to tremble, optics bright with fear locked on Overlord.

“No, _please!_ What have I done to deserve this?” The Con sobs. He’s small, and Overlord is not.

_It’ll be a tight fit._ Overlord’s spike pressurizes.

“That’s good, claim your reward.” His Master croons, a servo stroking Overlords back

Overlord shudders from the input. So many sweet strains to keep his processor occupied. His Master’s approving voice, touch to his frame. _The sweet begging of the little Con, the tatters of his EM field…_

The cameras are rolling when he pounce, shoving his massive spike into the tight valve of the smaller Con. The mech wails, and it’s such sweet music to his audials. The Autobots’ fields brush against Overlord’s, heavy with arousal, and it feels as if he’s being caressed all over at once, like ten servos teasing his frame. He moans loudly, getting closer with every harsh thrust, every time he slams against that ceiling node. The other Con cries out, legs flailing uselessly to fight the Phase sixer off of him, but it’s futile. Digits scrabble against his plating, and it adds to the wonderful cacophony of input.

He overloads, transfluid spilling out around his spike to pool on the floor, and he waits until he has spilled it all before pulling out, immediately dropping the other mech on the floor in a limp heap. In the scent of transfluid and lubricant, of energon from the smaller Cons torn valve. _It’s like a symphony of input._

“You’re such a good pet.” His Master croons, toying with a plate on Overlord’s side.

“Yes, Master.”

“Now, your little show made us all charged up. How about getting on your knees and servos and letting us relieve that?”

Overlord shudders with renewed arousal. _Another chance at being barraged with input._

“With pleasure, Master.”

It’s so easy to fall to his knees, to bend forward to stand on all fours. A mech comes to kneel in front of him, and Overlord eagerly sucks the spike into his intake, tilts his helm to get it as deep as possible. Another spike slides into his soaked valve, and he groans around the spike in his mouth.

_The rest of the mechs are standing in line, waiting for their turn, and if he’s really lucky, he’ll get to enjoy the input of being taken in every hole several times before it’s time to go home again._

_He should be disgusted with himself, his eagerness to be defiled like this._ He used to be, but that was long before he learned what the alternative is. _He’s never left bored when he does this, always get attention._ When he swallows the transfluid, and the next mech comes to kneel in front of him, Overlord allows the last sliver of dignity wilt and die.

This is what he is now, all he’ll ever be.

_And he wouldn’t have it any other way._


End file.
